After a long day at the Giardini portion of the Venice Biennale (think the MN State Fair of art, albeit the nominally best art in the world) — and a long vaporetto ride going nowhere (at least I had no other goal in mind than to spend some time on a boat in the Venetian lagoon) — I decided, what the heck, I’d head back to the hotel and rest a bit.

Oh wait, gotta stop writing for a second, must be on the hour because the bells are ringing all over the island: my god that’s beautiful.

Here’s a picture from my room while we wait:

Okay, where was I? Ah yes, the incredible, edible egg. I stopped to get a caffè and some water. No, I answered, I did not want a cicchetto. And then I saw it! A small plate holding little halves of hard boiled egg. Yolks deep golden and all glistening with the sheen of smoky green olive oil.

Oh, I answered, I’ve changed my mind. I’ll have that!! €0,50 for each mezzo uova. When they say, it was the ambrosia of the Gods, I think I just discovered on that little cobblestoned Venetian street what they’ve been talking about. It was that egg.

This is right up there with my favorite foods in Rome. Pizza Bianca. It’s — I guess — best described as pizza dough naked except for floral olive oil and a little salt. It is that perfect combination of crunchy and chewy. And not just anyone can make it. The best in my view (and of those in the know) can be found at the Forno Campo di Fiori. On the periphery of the succulence of their open-air market.

A little slab, poco poco — and some water. Maybe a peach or date from the market – a little caciocavallo (cheese) and you’re set for lunch.

Except, for dessert. Better go find myself some gelato. Ha! While sitting on the marble statue of some dude who was executed here in the Campo (16th century o somethin’) I saw a young couple, wife pg, husband carrying un bambino, all eating gelato — the baby turned away when offered a lick. I sat here trying to figure how to say “a baby who doesn’t like ice-cream?!?!” in Italian. But decided against intruding.